


Metal Substitute

by vkdemon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, claw kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vkdemon/pseuds/vkdemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles orders metal claws to simulate the touch he wants but can't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metal Substitute

**Author's Note:**

> [This](http://www.heavenlyswords.com/images/T/KZ007%20400.jpg) is what Stiles' claws look like. Much love for Alex who accidentally inspired this and Kathelyne for having her beta-y way with it

The box was on his desk. It sat ever so innocently beside his computer. It was from a Renaissance faire online store. His dad probably thought it was a new set of throwing daggers or a metal belt for his jester costume. It was a costume piece.... but nothing like his father would imagine. He checked for his dad's car first. The cruiser was gone. He locked all of the doors of the house and then all the windows. He didn't need a wolf jumping through his window during this. Stiles undressed, taking the box into the middle of his bed with him.

"Come to me, pretty," Stiles licked his lips as he carefully opened the shipping tape. He pulled out the bubble wrap, too excited to spend the requisite hour playing in the popping sound. They were freaking awesome, guaranteed hours of Stiles’ enjoyment and focus. But no!

The bubble-wrap was not as important as the treasure within the box. The bubble-wrap dropped to the floor. Smooth metal pressed into his palm, small pricks of sharp points caressed his tender palm. Out of the box came a 4 set of metal claws. They bent at the natural joints of the finger resembling the fingers on a medieval suit of armor. Each tip was a sharp claw. He slid the cold metal over each finger and his thumb. He flexed his hands, watching the fingers become devilish. He ran an index claw ever do softly down his own chest.

He shuddered, his already filling cock jumping. They felt like claws. They felt like the sharp points that had pressed threatening into his skin time and time again. He could see the flashing eyes already, so angry, so filled with rage. A soft gasp rose from his pink lips as he pressed the claws into the side curve of his rib cage.

"Oh F..fuck.."

Stiles railed those claws down his pale chest, thin lines of red marking their path. Derek was a cruel beast. He'd let his claws out as he laughed. The claws wrapped around Stiles' cock. The metal had warmed from his skin and he could almost feel those natural claws torturing him. He couldn't thrust up without fearing the deadly points ripping him open. He would be forced to remain so still, fighting his squirming nature for the gift of those claws touching him, for flashing blue eyes showing lust with the emotions of anger and hatred. He gripped tugging his leaking cock. He could come from just that... but... no that wasn't right, not yet. He released himself, a long line of pre-cum stretching between the tip of the claw and his slit. Derek would bring it up. He pressed the claw into his own mouth, imagining the alpha making him taste his own tartness. He should say something hot, commanding, but Derek didn't need words, just those burning eyes.

Stiles wrapped his left hand around himself, jerking his hips up into the whetted tunnel. Those claws traced Stiles jaw, tapping at his beauty marks. Derek would get annoyed at his squirming. The claws laid over his throat. They tightened, pricking Stile's skin as a threat. Stay still. Obey. A choking whimper echoed with the harsh slapping noise of his frantic jacking. He couldn't stay still. Not with the pain on his throat. The claws dug in to draw pinpoints of blood.

He couldn't scream through the pressure on his throat as he coated his hands, chest and hips with his semen. His clawed hand rested over his heart, the redness slowly leaving his face. The claws tapped a rhythm, like a thank you against his skin.

"Derek," He whispered through his abused throat.

In a little bit he would get up. He would clean the bloody substitute claws. He could shower. He would place little batman band-aids on his throat punctures. He would play with the soothing bubble-wrap until all the shame and loneliness was gone. But for right now he had claws on his chest, like a lover's exhausted limb and he could believe he was good enough for the alpha to want.


End file.
